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Train #48, the eastbound Lakeshore Limited, pulled into Cleveland at 5:56 a.m. This was the ninth and last segment of my 23-day trip. I was glad to get home.
It was a great trip. I met many interesting, funny, kind, intelligent people, visited friends and relatives, saw cities, gardens, plains and mountains, ate (mostly) great food and learned a lot. I got really good at living out of a backpack and small suitcase, using my iPhone and laptop, and finding my way around new places. It was all good, in fact things could hardly have been better.
The downside? Missing my family, especially Joanne. I would have stayed out at least a week longer, using up the last few days on my Railpass, except that the phone calls and emails didn't make up for being apart.
And yet, as great as being home felt, it also was a little strange. I'd slept in so many different rooms my own bedroom didn't feel like home yet—it was just another room. It was odd to not reach into my backpack to get what I needed, to not look at my iPhone every few minutes hoping for email.
I gave myself the day off from everything but hanging out with Joanne and quickly checking mail and phone messages in case there was anything urgent. I cooked supper. We watched a video. I went to bed early without updating my website (this is being written on the 22nd).
It's good to be home.
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